


Miguel

by orphan_account



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, F/M, Family, Gen, Roleswap, ageswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-08-05 10:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16366055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Despite her family's century-old ban on music, young Socorro "Coco" Rivera loves music and wishes to become a famous dancer and singer just like her idol, Ernesto de la Cruz.Desperate to prove to her family that she should be allowed to sing and dance, she winds up in the Land of the Dead on Día de Muertos. After meeting a man named Enrique, the two new friends embark on a journey to find De la Cruz, in order for Coco to receive her idol's blessing.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I remember romas-art's drawings of a reverse AU, and someone-online's tumblr posts of a parent swap AU, so I decided to give it all a try.  
> Now, it still takes place in 2017 like in the film. However, a lot has still changed, such as:  
> — Enrique was born in 1899 and died in 1926, while Luisa was born in 1900 and died in the 70's. Probably in 1971, as I think she wouldn't live that long enough to see her great-grandchild being born.  
> — Miguel is Coco’s great-grandfather, born in 1922 and suffering from Alzheimer's. His wife is an OC named Beatriz, and their daughters are Victoria (born in 1943) and Elena (born in 1945).  
> — Elena is the daughter who dies in her 40s, along with her husband, Franco, in a car wreck. Thus, they don't have kids and Victoria is left taking care of the shop.  
> — Victoria is the matriarch of the family, and while she’s much less aggressive as opposed to her younger sister, she’s still strict about the ban. She is Héctor’s mother via sperm donation, and the donor is an OC named Hugo, who is a close friend of hers - as she never found love, yet still wanted a child. So, she went to the clinic and did the whole artificial insemination process. Hugo never married into the family, but he's still the sperm donor and Héctor's biological father, thus an honorary member.  
> — Since Héctor (born 1975) is actually a part of the Rivera family, Imelda (born 1974) is the one who marries in. She’s much more relaxed about the music ban since her husband never left her, and had Coco in 2005. Imelda and Héctor are expecting another kid, and the story of how they met is actually very ironic and will be revealed later on in the fic, as they will get just as much time as they did in the film.  
> — Óscar and Felipe (born 1978) are still Imelda’s younger twin brothers, and they joined the family because _why would you ever separate these two from their sis omg are you insane?_ They have wives of their own, and are the fathers of the other Rivera kids because hell yes. Abel and Rosa are Óscar’s kids, and Manny  & Benny are Felipe’s kids.  
> — Berto (born 1889) and Gloria (born 1892) are still Enrique’s siblings, and Carmen is still Berto’s wife, though they don’t have any children due to complications and such.  
> — Ernesto’s still a murderer and an evil bastard, Julio (born 2005) and Rosita (born 2006) are Coco’s friends and Coco/Julio is still very much OTP, Dante is still a stray, Pepita is Imelda’s cat, and the original animal character is Luisa’s alebrije. Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera's cameos are switched too, for my own little reasons. Also my headcanon for young Coco's voice actress is Jenny Ortega, because she was just too cute in Elena of Avalor.  
> With all of this info aside, let’s get on with the story now, shall we?

Sometimes, I feel like my family has the worst luck. My family is the only one in the entire country of Mexico who hates music – while I, one of the youngest children, loves it.

But it wasn’t always like this.

You see, under one hundred years ago, there used to be a family of three: a father, a mother and their son.

The father was a musician, and he would play his guitar for his son and wife – and together, they would all sing and dance like nothing else mattered.

But then, one day, the father decided he wanted to play for the world – so he packed up his guitar, kissed his wife and son goodbye, and left.

A year passed, and he was never seen again.

As for the wife? She decided that if her husband wasn’t willing to be there for his family, then she would provide for her son herself. With the help of her in-laws, she established a business that specialized in crafting shoes – a very resourceful choice, since shoes last forever as opposed fireworks, candy or sparkly underwear.

When her son came of age, she taught him how to make shoes. Then, she taught her daughter-in-law – and then her granddaughters, the eldest of which passed it down to her own son, and the cycle just kept going as the business flourished.

Music had torn the woman’s family apart, and left her son without a father – but shoes kept the family close.

You might be wondering, just who is this woman? Well… she’s my great-great grandmother, Mamá Luisa. She died in the 70's, just before my papá was born – but my Abuelita Victoria tells her story every year on Día de Muertos, since my great grandfather, Papá Miguel, is ninety-five and can’t remember much of anything nowadays.

“Hola, Papá Miguel!”

“Beatriz? Is that you?”

My name isn’t actually Beatriz – it’s Socorro, though my family calls me “Coco” for short. “Beatriz” is the name of his wife, my great-grandmother who died in the early 2000s. He kind of mixes up me and my cousin’s names with our dead relatives' names sometimes, as he’s got a _really_ bad case of Alzheimer’s – but even if he’s got a slightly bad memory, I still enjoy talking to him! I tell him everything – like how my way of running has changed, my love of dancing, and the little joke about our dimples!

“ _Socorro,_ you’ve barely touched your food! You’re twelve years-old – you need to eat more, or you’ll end up skinnier than your father was when he was your age!”

“But Abuelita, I’ve already eaten my food!”

“Clearly not enough.”

“…fine, I’ll have some more quesadillas.”

“That’s better.”

There’s a reason why Abuelita Victoria is the head of the family – while she doesn’t run the household like Mamá Luisa did, she’s still pretty strict. When I even so much as whistle, she immediately gives me that look of disapproval and says in a quiet, yet firm tone…  

“ _No music._ ”

But it’s _Mexico, Latinoamérica!_ Of _course_ there’s going to be music – it’s a huge part of our _cultura!_

Yet somehow, my family is completely on board with this ban, _except_ for me.

Whenever I head out, I always sneak out to the plaza and listen to the mariachis sing and play their instruments – sometimes, I dance to the rhythm and sing along. I’m not alone, either – I hang out with Julio, his sister Rosita, and my favorite stray dog, Dante.

And I must admit, I kind of like Julio a little… but no one aside from Dante can know this, or else my family and his sister will _freak!_

I can’t help how I feel, though – he just makes me feel weak inside, with his gentle nature, how thoughtful he is, and his singing… but it’s not _entirely_ his fault, nor is it mine – it’s Ernesto de la Cruz’s fault!

Ernesto de la Cruz is one of the greatest musicians in the entire country and Mexican history. He started out as a nobody from Santa Cecilia, but then he played music and won over most of the people’s hearts.

He had a guitar with the nearest design, starred in movies, and he could even _fly!_ …well, sort of.

He wrote _amazing_ songs, but my favorite of his will always be “Remember Me.”

Too bad he was crushed by a bell at age forty-six in 1942.

He’s a _huge_ inspiration to me… when I look at pictures of him, I feel this connection between us… like, if he could play the guitar, then maybe _I_ could sing and dance – and maybe even be with the boy I like!

Now, if only my family would allow it…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment to let me know what your thoughts are on this AU. After all, feedback is what helps an author continue their work. :)


	2. Family, as incomplete as it is

Coco knows she’s not supposed to go to the plaza. She knows she’s not supposed to be hanging out with anyone near the plaza, those who associate themselves with music in any way – but she can’t help it. She needs to have someone to talk to, someone who will listen to what she has to say – and that someone certainly isn’t any member of her family, not even her parents.

“And it just isn’t right!” she finds herself rambling to Julio and Rosita, as they are all seated on a bench, not too far from all of the other musicians. “Because of some event that happened a _long time ago,_ music isn’t allowed – even _humming_ is forbidden!”

“Have you ever tried telling them how you feel?” Rosita asks, tilting her head.

Coco shakes her head. “No. Abuelita’s word is practically _law,_ since she runs the household. Heck, if she knew I was here with you guys, she’d _bust a lung!_ ”

“But you can’t just let your family stop you from pursuing your dreams,” Julio says, leaning forward. “You have the right to express yourself, whether they like it or not. If you want to dance and sing, you should.”

“I _do_ dance and sing!” Coco argues, still holding back. “Just not around them.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid to show off your talent.” He places a hand on her shoulder. “I know you have what it takes, just like De la Cruz did – you just need to gather up your courage, just as he did.” He then gestures to the bandstand, as a poster is hung up. “Tonight, they’re setting up a talent show for Día de Muertos. You should sign up.”

She hesitates, then shakes her head once more. “My family would _kill_ me if I took part in this.”

He puts his arm around her as he starts to lead her towards the stage manager, while Rosita trails after them. “Coco, you’re my best friend, and I will not stand by and watch you give up your dream just because your family wants you to shine shoes.”

“Besides, what did De la Cruz always say?” Rosita pipes in.

Coco looks between her friend and her crush. “…seize your moment?”

“Exactly,” Julio whispers, just as they finally approach the stage manager. He turns to the grown woman and says, “Excuse me, Señorita.” He pushes Coco forward a bit. “My friend here would like to sign up.”

“Okay.” The stage manager is about to put the girl on the list, when she asks her, “Got an instrument?”

“No, I don’t,” Coco answers, shifting a little under the woman’s gaze.

“Find yourself a guitar then, kid,” the stage manager tells her, before she jots something down on her clipboard. “I’ll put you on the list.”

As the stage manager walks away, Coco turns back to Julio. “I don’t know how to play an instrument! I can sing and dance, but I can’t play a guitar!”

“Then I’ll get a guitar and play, while you sing,” Julio suggests, smiling.

“But—”

He places a hand on her shoulder, giving her an encouraging look. “You’ll do _great,_ I just know it.”

Their eyes meet, and her heart flutters at the thought of doing an act with her crush. She nods, and her face begins to feel all warm. “Okay, I’ll—”

“ _Socorro!_ ”

Startled, the twelve year-old pushes the boy back a bit. She turns and sees her grandmother marching towards her, with her twin uncles, Óscar and Felipe, and one of her older cousins, Rosa, following as they carry supplies and marigold flowers from the market.

“Abuelita!”

“What are you doing here?” Victoria demands, placing her hands on her hips as she comes up to the three children. “

“Um, well, I…” Coco stammers, rubbing her arm as panic rises within her. She doesn’t know what to do, since she’s never been caught before.

“She was just talking to mi hermano!” Rosita tries speaking up for her friend.

“I was just helping her sign up for the music competition!” Julio adds, nodding at his sister’s comment.

Victoria, Óscar, Felipe and Rosa gasp.

“Is that true, Coco?” Óscar asks his niece, his voice shaky as he starts to fear for her. He doesn’t want to see her get into trouble.

“I know my granddaughter,” Victoria says in a low voice, her eyes dangerously narrowed. Intimidated, Julio and Rosita back away as she steps closer. “She is a _buena niña_ who knows better than to associate with _músicos._ She wants _nothing_ to do with either of you. _Mantente alejado de ella._ ”

Julio and Rosita look at their friend with a sad expression on their faces. Then, the two siblings mumble a quick “okay” before they leave.

Coco wants to scream and yell at her grandmother for chasing her friends away, but she’s pulled into a quick hug before she can find her voice.

“Ay, _niñita._ ” Victoria hugs her granddaughter tightly for a moment and pats her back, then pulls away. “Where you ever listening when I said never to head out to the plaza? Or did you think you could sneak here undetected?” When the girl does not respond, she changes her tone to a stern one, “Ven a casa.”

The seventy-four year-old turns toward home, followed by Óscar and Felipe.

Rosa hesitates to follow her father and uncle for a moment, as she looks at her younger cousin. “You know, you’re not as good as sneaking around as Pepita is,” she remarks, before following after the others.

Coco sighs and follows after her family, catching up to her uncles.

“You shouldn’t sneak out like that,” Felipe says to his niece, worry in his tone. He and his brother know how serious the Riveras’ hatred for music is – from the moment they joined the family alongside their sister, the family matriarch made it very clear that music was a curse in her eyes. They don’t exactly know what the consequences for rebelling against the rules are, and they certainly don’t want to find out. “You know the plaza is forbidden.”

“I know, Tío Felipe.”

Óscar notices the upset look on the girl’s face. “Hey, don’t be upset – your abuelita’s just looking out for you,” he tries to reassure her.

“ _Lo sé,_ Tío Óscar.”

Suddenly, Dante rushes over to Coco. He jumps up on his hind legs as he lets out eager barks.

“Dante, no!” Coco whispers as she tries to shoo the dog away.

“Why is that dog following you?” Victoria asks, looking at the xolo, then at her granddaughter.

“It’s Dante – he’s just a friend,” Coco tells her, petting the dog’s back just as he runs around her legs.

“Well, tell your ‘friend’ that street dogs aren’t allowed in the shop,” Victoria states simply. “Even if they’ve been given names.”

* * *

“It turns out that your daughter snuck out to the mariachi plaza,” Victoria announces as she sits her granddaughter down onto a stool, facing her son.

Héctor looks at his mother, then at his daughter. “Coco,” he sighs, shaking his head. He isn’t exasperated, though – he can’t be, not when he feels sympathy for his little girl. He, too, loves music – he had even been exactly like her when he was her age, but stopped once he grew up and took his place alongside his mother in the workshop.

His heavily pregnant wife, Imelda, says softly yet firmly, “You _know_ why there’s no heading out to the plaza.” She, too, feels some sympathy for her daughter though – she once loved music, but gave it up as she fell in love with Héctor and wanted to put down roots.

“I was just talking to my friends!” Coco tries to defend herself.

“And signed up for a music competition!” Felipe adds, causing the rest of the family to gasp.

“I just want to be able to enjoy music for _one night!_ Is that really too much to ask?”

Imelda frowns at her daughter. “Don’t make this hard, mija. Your abuelita doesn’t want you to go down the same path that man did.”

“So if I dare to take part in this music competition, then I’m just the same as some walkaway deadbeat?” Coco asks.

“No one is comparing you to that man,” her ‘grandfather’, Hugo, speaks up from behind his desk. He’s seventy-nine, with olive skin and a voice that’s a mixture between gravel and serene. “What they’re saying is that they don’t want you to share the same fate as him.”

(While he’s not married into the family, he knows the history very well as he went to school with Victoria, being a close friend of hers.

He still remembers agreeing to donate his sperm, just so she could have a child. He remembers how he eventually started working at the shop, just so she could take some time off to raise her son – because while they were friends, they were also family.)

“It’s just _one_ talent show,” Coco says, turning to her mother. “My name’s already on the list, anyway.”

“You already signed up?” Héctor asks.

“No, Tío Héctor,” Rosa giggles. “Her _novio_ signed her up for the talent show.”

Abel laughs and teases his younger cousin, “What were you two going to do? Sing a duet?”

“Hey, quit making fun of your cousin!” Óscar scolds his children, causing them both to look down at the ground. “Your mother and I taught you better than this.”

Coco breathes in and out heavily, as she struggles to hold herself back from screaming _why don’t any of you care what I have to say?_

Héctor and Imelda notice this. Héctor places a hand on their daughter’s shoulder and says, “How about the three of us discuss this in private, huh?” He then looks at his mother. “We won’t be long, I promise.”

Victoria raises an eyebrow, but nods and allows her son and daughter-in-law to lead the girl into the other room.

“Look, mija,” Héctor says as soon as they’re in the other room, far from the others’ hearing range, “I know that it’s hard following the rules – believe me, I do. I was just like you when I was twelve.”

“Really?” Coco finds it hard to believe that her father could have ever been like her.

“Yes,” Héctor chuckles at the look of amazement on his daughter’s face. “When I was a young boy, I wanted to play a guitar and write songs…” He smiles a little, as nostalgia takes over. Then, his smile fades. “But then I grew up, and realized that my family needed me.”

Imelda nods at her husband’s words, then turns to her daughter. “I, too, loved music – but I gave it up, when I realized how much I loved your father.”

“But…” Coco trails off for a moment, licking her lips. “Wasn’t it hard, making such a huge sacrifice?”

“It was,” Héctor answers. “But in the end…” He grabs his wife’s hand, squeezing it as he looks at her. “…we all have to make sacrifices, when it comes to family.”

“You’ll understand one day,” Imelda says.

There’s this look on her and Héctor’s faces that makes Coco feel as though they’re hiding something from her, but before she can ask, Victoria walks in.

“If I may, I’d like to take Socorro to the ofrenda room,” the seventy-four year-old says. The girl’s parents nod, and she grabs the girl’s hand as she begins to lead her out of the store, into the courtyard.

Pepita, Imelda’s cat, stirrs awake as grandmother and granddaughter passed her bed. She lets out a meow, before she pads after her mistress’ daughter.

* * *

“Día de los Muertos is the only time of the year when our ancestors can visit us,” Victoria tells her granddaughter, as they walk towards the ofrenda. “They are all out there, but they can only cross over and come if we put their photos up on the ofrenda. Esto es un hecho.”

Coco looks at all of the photos put up on the ofrenda. Her Tía Elena and her husband Tío Franco’s photo is on the second top row; the picture looking as though it was taken in 1987. Next to their photo are two pictures – Tío Berto and Tía Gloria’s photos, both taken in 1948. In the third row is Mamá Beatriz’s photo, taken in 2001, just a year before her death. On the bottom row is Tía Carmen’s photo, taken in 1946.

And on the top row rests the photo of Mamá Luisa and Papá Miguel, taken back in 1926 – just when Miguel was four years-old, prior to his father leaving. Of course, Miguel’s father’s face was torn out of the photo a long time ago – now all that’s left is the body of a mysterious man in a mariachi suit, holding a white guitar.

While Pepita rubs up against her legs, Coco looks at her great-grandfather and wonders just how much he remembers about his father, as the man’s existence is missing from the memories of everyone else.

“We put up everything they loved in life,” Victoria continues, a smile on her face. “It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it to bring the family together. I just don’t want you going missing…” She stops, as she notices that her granddaughter isn’t paying much attention. “Are you listening to me?”

“I-I’m sorry,” the girl stutters.

Victoria shakes her head. “The point is: being a part of this family means you must _take part_ of it.” She gestures to the torn photo. “After what happened with that man—”

“—Papá Miguel’s papá?”

Victoria’s eyes narrow. “We _don’t_ speak of him,” she says sternly.

“But you brought him up,” Coco points out.

“Still—”

“Papá?”

The two turn to see Miguel awakened, his eyes open, desperately searching for his father. “Papá, are you there?” the ninety-five year-old croaks.

“No, Papá,” Victoria sighs as she walks over to her father. “He’s not here.”

The old man’s shoulder’s sagged. “Oh…”

“Descansa un poco, Papá,” Victoria whispers, rubbing her father’s shoulders. “I know I may seem a little harsh, Coco, but I just—” She stops as she realizes that the girl is gone. “…Coco?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll just say this: from this chapter, here on out, it’s very divergent.


	3. Discoveries and Crushed Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while since I've updated, but here I am! Hope ya enjoy.

Dante is sleeping underneath the shade of a tree, when he hears the scratching of a record player. He’s startled awake as he feels something lick his sides. His eyes open, and he sees Pepita gesturing with her tail towards the roof.

Both the dog and cat scramble up to the roof, with the xolo lifting up the shoe sign.

The two poke their heads in, and Coco turns and gasps. “Oh, it’s just you two.” She smiles and gestures for them to come in. “Come in, Dante. Pepita.”

The xolo and the cat slip into the hideout. Pepita sits down near Coco’s legs, as the girl stands next to an old record player. Dante sits next to it and wags his tail, his tongue sticking out as he pants.

“You two are the only ones who actually want to see me dance,” she murmurs, a sad smile on her face. She turns on the record player, and “The World Es Mi Familia” plays. The girl carefully moves her feet across the floor, dancing to the sound of De la Cruz’s voice.

 _“For this music is my language, and the world es mi familia,”_ she sings softly as she twirls.

Pepita meows and nuzzles against one of the girl’s legs, while Dante sloppily licks the other.

Coco giggles, then turns off the record player. She moves to the far side of the attic, where her own ofrenda for Ernesto de la Cruz resides – posters, candles and songbooks are arranged with care. She lights the candles with deep respect, illuminating an album cover of De la Cruz holding his skull guitar.

She switches on a beat up old TV and pushed a tape titled “Best of De la Cruz” into the VCR. A montage of the greatest moments from his films play out.

A clip from “A Quien Yo Amo” plays first.

“I have to sing,” Ernesto imparts his wisdom. “I have to play. The music, it’s – it’s not just in me. _It is me._ ”

More clips run in the background as she continues to dance.

“When life gets me down, I play my guitar.”

In another clip, Ernesto declares, “The rest of the world may follow the rules, but I must follow my heart!”

After his declaration, he kisses a random woman passionately. Coco sighs, finding the scene very romantic.

Yet another clip plays, showing Ernesto playing his guitar.

“You know that feeling? Like there’s a song in the air and it’s playing just for you…”

Coco hums along to the guitar’s melody.

_“A feeling so close, you could reach out and touch it. I never knew I could want something so much, but it’s true…”_

As a good-natured priest in “Nuestra Iglesia”, Ernesto tells a nun, “You must have faith, sister.”

“Oh but Padre, he will never listen,” the nun protests.

“He will listen…” Ernesto pulls out a guitar. “…to _music!_ ” Then, he sings, _“Only a song, only a song has the power to change a heart…”_

Coco loses herself in the music, as she continues to hum and dance.

“Never underestimate the power of music…”

The girl’s humming intertwines with the melodies on the TV set, as the clip jumps forward.

“But my father,” Lola says, “he will never give his permission.”

“I am done asking permission,” Ernesto says firmly. “When you see your moment, you mustn’t let it pass you by – _you must_ _seize it!_ ”

The tape ends with an interview clip.

“Señor de la Cruz, what did it take for you to seize your moment?” the interviewer asks him.

Ernesto sits back in his chair, with his hand on his chin. “I had to have faith in my dream,” he answers in an honest tone. “No one was going to hand it to me. It was up to me to reach for that dream, grab it tight, and make it come true.”

“…make it come true,” Coco repeats her idol’s words as the tape ends. The words sink into her mind as she remembers the competition at the plaza. She looks over to Dante and Pepita. “No more hiding, guys – I must seize my moment!”

Dante wags his tail as he pants happily, while Pepita meows in approval.

“I have to sing and dance, even if it kills me!” the girl declares.

* * *

Children run by with sparklers as Victoria opens the doors to the family compound.

“Día de los Muertos has finally arrived!” she declares happily.

In the courtyard, Manny and Benny messily scatter and dump marigold petals from their baskets onto the ground.

Imelda notices this, and immediately runs over to the twin toddlers, stopping them from haphazardly scattering the petals any further. “No, no, no!” she says, putting a finger up. She then puts her hand into the basket, correcting them as she creates a path from the ofrenda room to the front gate. “We must make the path as clear as possible,” she instructs them. “They are what guide our ancestors home. If the path is not clear, then they’ll never be able to find us _or_ enjoy the offerings we’ve left on the ofrenda for them. Lo entiendes?”

As she teaches the toddlers, Coco, Dante and Pepita sneak across the roof and drop to the sidewalk outside the compound – Coco and Pepita land on their feet, while Dante stumbles on a few crates to the ground.

Suddenly, Óscar and Héctor round the corner, carrying a small table from storage.

“Mamá, you said you wanted this down in the courtyard by the kitchen, right?” Héctor asks.

Coco, Dante and Pepita back up to avoid the adults – but as Coco turns, she sees her grandmother sweeping the sidewalk behind them. The three jump back into the courtyard before she can see them.

“Yes, mijo – right there,” Victoria answers.

Coco backs out of the courtyard, into the family ofrenda room. She ushers Dante and Pepita past a sleeping Miguel. “Get under, you two! Get under!” She stashes the dog and cat under the ofrenda table.

“Socorro!” her grandmother calls out.

She straightens up, noticing the doorway of the room darkened by three figures – her grandmother and parents. “N-nothing!”

They stare straight at her. A pit grows in her stomach as she fears that she’s been caught.

“Mamá, Papá, I—”

“Coco,” Héctor interrupts her. “Your Abuelita had a _fantastic_ idea! It’s been decided – soon, you’ll be joining us in the workshop!”

The girl’s heart drops. “ _What?!_ ”

“Every day after school, your mother and I will be teaching you how to make shoes,” Héctor continues.

Victoria takes a step towards Coco and pats the girl’s shoulder, filled with pride. “You’ll be bringing _so much honor_ to your ancestors.” She gestures to the shoes adorning the ofrenda. “You’ll craft sandals just like your Tía Elena—”

“—and ballet flats, like your Mamá Beatriz,” Héctor adds.

Coco crosses away from the ofrenda. “But what if I never learn?” she asks. “What if I’m never able to make shoes?”

“Ah, Coco,” Imelda cuts in. “You have your family to guide you. You are a Rivera, and a Rivera is…”

“…a shoemaker, through and through,” Coco finishes, sighing. “I know, Mamá. You’re right.”

Héctor and Imelda smile at their daughter. For a moment, Coco swears that she can spot something in her parents’ eyes – but that strange glimmer disappears very quickly.

“That’s our girl,” Héctor says softly. He gives his daughter a tight hug, before he then calls out: “Felipe, bring out the tequila and coke – let’s make a toast, to our little Coco!”

Imelda cups her daughter’s face in her hands for a moment. “I’m proud of you, mija.” After that, she follows after her husband.

Victoria pats Coco’s shoulders once more and kisses her granddaughter’s forehead, and then she leaves.

The girl’s shoulders sag once her family is gone, as she realizes that she’ll never be able to dance or sing now.

Suddenly, there’s noise coming from the ofrenda, followed by a hiss. Coco turns to find Dante on the bottom tier, licking a plate of mole to his heart’s content while Pepita is hissing as though she’s trying to get him to stop.

“No, Dante – that’s not yours!” Coco yells, horrified. “Stop that!”

She pulls the dog away from the ofrenda, but the table shakes as the dog’s claws latch onto the fabric for a moment. When the girl does manage to pull the dog off, the shaking continues. The frame with Mamá Luisa’s photo sways back and forth, then topples to the ground with a sickening crack.

“Oh no…” Coco gulps, then picks up the old photo, which unfolds to reveal another portion, hidden for so many years.

The faceless man in the mariachi suit is holding a guitar – and not just any guitar, but a _skull-headed guitar._

“De la Cruz’s guitar,” Coco murmurs, her eyes widening in shock.

“Papá…?”

Coco turns, startled for a moment – until she notices Miguel pointing a crooked finger at the picture in her hand.

“ _Papá?_ ” he repeats.

Coco’s eyes widen as the connection dawns upon her. Could it be that her idol is really her great-great grandfather?

“Papá Miguel, is your papá Ernesto de la Cruz?” she asks, just to make sure not to jump to any conclusions just yet.

“Papá! _Papá!_ ”

* * *

Coco goes to her secret ofrenda, to the record album of Ernesto de la Cruz. She holds the photo up, comparing the guitar in the picture to the guitar on the sleeve.

It’s a perfect match.

“Haha!” she laughs happily.

* * *

Coco runs to the edge of the roof, overlooking the courtyard as she holds the photo in her hands. “Papá, Papá!”

Her parents stop and look up at her.

“I know who my great-great grandfather is!” she continues.

“Socorro Adelina Rivera, get down from the roof before you fall!” Imelda calls out, concerned for her daughter’s well-being.

But Coco doesn’t care how high up she is, nor does she care if she ends up falling or not – she’s too happy to give a damn. “Papá Miguel’s father was Ernesto de la Cruz!” she yells joyfully, so happy to have figured out where her musical talent comes from.

“ _Seriously?_ ” Héctor asks.

Coco nods excitedly, before she then adds, “And just like him, I’m going to be a singer – and a dancer, too!”

* * *

Coco’s record player is cast at her feet, along with her De la Cruz albums and tapes.

“Care to explain what all of this is?” Victoria asks, crossing her arms.

“Well, you know—” Felipe begins.

“—how children are!” Óscar finishes.

“So very curious and mischievous!” they say in unison.

Óscar’s wife, Joaquina, then says, “I think it’s all the time she spends at the plaza.”

“Or maybe it’s _that boy_ who’s the cause of all this,” Felipe’s wife, Alma, suggests.

“It’s not Julio’s fault!” Coco yells at her aunts. She hands Héctor the photo and points to the skull guitar. “See? That man really is De la Cruz – the greatest musician in the entire country!”

“That may be true,” Héctor says slowly. “But even if it is, the man still left his wife and son behind – and I will _not_ let him fill my daughter’s head with stupid musical fantasies.”

“Says the man who wanted to be a musician when he was a little boy!” Coco shoots back, her eyes narrowing. “Papá, don’t you see? Music is in our blood – it’s what De la Cruz passed down to us! I’m meant to sing and dance, while you’re meant to play a guitar!”

“What good has that man’s music ever brought us?” Victoria raises her voice as her brow furrows. “All it’s ever done was bring misery upon this family! I will not be taking any chances.”

“But if you’d just—”

“Don’t be like that, mija,” Imelda says sternly. “You either do this Abuelita’s way, or _no way._ ”

“Your mother is right,” Héctor agrees with his wife, trying to put on a stern tone. “Listen to your Abuelita. No more playing music.”

Coco grabs her record player. “Just let me show you—”

“You’ll be thanking her later on in life, once you’ve grown up,” Héctor says dismissively, raising his hand with the photo in it as he points at her.

Coco turns on the record player, and it plays for a few seconds before Victoria snatches it away.

The seventy-four year-old points to the man in the photo. “Do you want to end up just like him?” she asks her. “Do you want to be forgotten? Left off of the ofrenda and unable to visit your family?”

“Why should I care about being on some stupid ofrenda, when none of you care about what I have to say or do?!” Coco snaps.

The whole family gasps at her words.

She tries to snatch her record player out of her grandmother’s hands. “Give it back!”

A tug of war soon ensues between the two. “Socorro, let go!”

“It’s my record player, not yours!”

“Socorro!”

“Just let me have this one thing!”

“ _Socorro!_ ”

The record player slipped from Victoria’s fingers as it flew out of her hands, before smashing into pieces on the ground.

“ _NO!_ ” Coco cries out as she looks at the remains of her record player – the one object she sought solace in; the one thing that kept her going throughout the music ban, throughout her life.

“Coco…” Victoria reaches out to comfort the twelve year-old, feeling guilty for breaking the record player, even if it had been an accident. “How about you drink some coke? It’ll make you feel better.”

The damage is already done though, as the girl is hurt beyond repair. Her eyes glimmer as tears threaten to spill. She breathes in and out, trying to soothe her nerves – but soon, it sinks in that she’ll never be able to achieve her dreams; not when she’s stuck in this family.

“ _I want no part of this family!_ ” she shouts, before snatching the photo from her father’s hands as she bolts out of the hacienda.

Héctor holds a hand out as he calls out for his daughter, “ _COCO!_ ”


	4. The Curse

Coco bursts out of the compound, desperate to get away. There’s tears in her eyes, blurring her vision as she can barely see where she's going – but she doesn't care. She's too heartbroken, too angry – too busy frantically wiping her tears away with her arms to care.

Pepita is chasing after the girl, knowing very well that her mistress would be heartbroken if her child didn't make it home safely – if at all.

Dante's nose is buried in a trash bag when he hears Coco along with Pepita. He pulls his nose away from the trash bag, and chases after the two.

Coco runs into the mariachi plaza. She approaches a stage manager in the gazebo. “My name's on the list,” she tells her.

“Did you finally get an instrument?” the stage manager asks her.

“No…” Coco shakes her head. “But I can sing and dance––”

“This is a competition for musicians, kid,” the stage manager interrupts her. “Sorry, but you can’t compete unless you've got an instrument.”

Coco is distraught. She feels as though she’s been cursed with bad luck tonight. Disheartened, she walks away, finding herself facing the statue of De la Cruz. “Great-great grandfather, what should I do?” she asks quietly.

There’s no answer. Her gaze falls upon a plaque at the base of the statue that reads “Seize your moment!”

She looks at the photo in her hand. She moves her thumb to reveal the skull-head guitar. Then, a firework illuminates the guitar that the statue holds.

Coco gets an idea. It’s risky – possibly even dangerous – but it’s worth a shot.

* * *

At the cemetery, there's a sea of candles as families gather at the graves of their loved ones.

Coco sneaks through the cemetery, slipping from one shadow to the next as she's seemingly unnoticed.

Dante and Pepita suddenly catch up to her. The xolo barks excitedly, while Pepita meows.

“No, no, no – stop it, you two!” she whispers, anxious about being caught. “ _Shhh!_ ”

She swipes a chicken leg from a neighboring grave and chucks it across the graveyard. Dante bounds after the food, while Pepita becomes silent and sits on her hind legs.

* * *

Coco slinks around outside of the tomb. She looks in one of the windows.

Inside, the famous guitar hangs above the crypt. Fireworks pop; bursts of light glint off the instrument. It seems to be beckoning for her to come in, but the window is locked.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles. She then throws her shoulder into the rusted-shut window pane, forcing it open with a loud scraping noise.

She slinks inside the tomb, dropping down to the mausoleum floor. She climbs into the crypt, slightly moving the lid. She stifles a gasp.

Coco crawls over the shiny sarcophagus, and comes face-to-face with the famed guitar. She wipes away a layer of dust, revealing the beautifully painted wood.

She looks up to the portrait of her idol. “Señor de la Cruz? I hope you’re not mad, but as your great-great granddaughter, I have to borrow this…” Her heart feels as though it’s in her throat as she lifts the guitar off its mount, unaware of the glowing petals within the mausoleum. “Everyone in our family thinks music can only bring misery,” she continues. “No one understands – no one wants to listen to what I have to say, but I know you would’ve listened. You would’ve told me to follow my heart and my dreams – to seize my moment!”

She backs up, in full view of the painting. “I don’t know how to play an instrument, but I’ll try playing in the plaza – for you!”

The twelve year-old’s fingers shake a little, before she strums the guitar once. Petals on the ground whirl and surge with light for a moment, as the air vibrates like a shock wave. She’s confused – _what happened?_

A flashlight suddenly shines at the window of the mausoleum, as a voices frantically cry out:

“The guitar!”

“It’s gone!”

“Somebody stole De la Cruz’s guitar!”

“Look, the window’s broken.”

Coco hears keys jangling and the door unlocking.

The groundskeeper of the cemetery enters, carrying a flashlight with him. “Alright, who’s there?” he asks, shining it around the place.

She quickly puts down the guitar, fearing she might get into trouble. “I’m sorry!” she apologizes, putting her hands up. “It may look like I was stealing the guitar, but I wasn’t! De la Cruz is my—”

The groundskeeper walks straight through her, not seeing her as though she’s a spirit. “There’s nobody here!”

The girl runs out, now panicking as thoughts race through her head such as _what’s going on?_ The panicking only gets worse as the people in the cemetery walk through her, too.

Suddenly, she hears her mother’s voice call out to her, “Coco!”

She turns and sees her parents, searching for her. “Mamá!”

“Coco, please come home!” Héctor calls out, his voice filled with fear and concern. “I’m sorry – we all are! Just please, come back!”

Coco sees him holding his arms out wide, and she runs into them, hoping to feel the same warmth she’s always felt… but that warmth never comes, as she goes right through him and falls to the ground.

“Where are you, Coco?” Imelda asks, her voice shaking as though she’s about to break down at any second.

Coco breathes in and out as she scrambles to her feet. “Why is this happening?” she asks, looking at her hands. “Am I… a ghost now? _Am I dead?_ ”

Her third question is answered as she hears a meow, followed by a bark. She turns her head, and sees Dante and Pepita. “You… you two can see me?” she asks. She receives a lick from the xolo as a response. “Then I’m not dead… thank goodness…”

Pepita sniffs the air for a moment, then at the ground. After a few minutes, she takes off running.

Coco quickly gets up. “Pepita, wait!” She and Dante run after the cat.

They both come to a sudden stop as the girl bumps into an elderly skeleton woman, nearly causing the woman’s bones to fall apart.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she quickly apologizes, not noticing that the woman is dead. When the woman turns though, she yelps, startled by her boney appearance.

“ _Coco?!_ ” the woman cries out, surprised to see her.

“Coco?” two other women along with a man – the man and one of the women are in their forties, while the other woman is in her sixties – ask, just as surprised.

“I can’t believe it!” The old woman places her hands on both sides of her head. “You’re here – _you’re_ _actually here!_ ”

The old woman is pushed aside as the one in her forties charges towards Coco, pinching her cheeks. “Our little C-C-C-Coco!”

“Wait!” Coco cries out, muffled. Once the woman lets go of her, she looks at the oldest one first. “Mamá Beatriz?” The woman waves, then she looks to the woman in her forties along with the man. “Tía Elena? Tío Franco?” As they greet her, she finally looks to the woman in her sixties. “Tía Carmen?”

“She’s not dead,” Carmen states, taking a step forward towards the girl. “If she was, she’d be a skeleton.”

“Yet I don’t think she’s really alive, either,” Franco remarks, as a living girl runs through Coco’s non-corporeal form. “It’s like she’s in-between…”

“We should see Mamá Luisa about this,” Beatriz suggests. “She might know what’s going on.”

Suddenly, a skeleton man and woman in her seventies run in. Coco immediately recognizes them as her Tío Berto and Tía Gloria.

“Luisa,” Berto huffs, “wasn’t allowed to cross the bridge!”

The others gasp.

“She’s still on the other side!” Gloria adds. She then takes notice of Coco’s presence and waves at the girl. “Oh – hola, Coco.”

Then, she and her brother gasp. “ _Coco?!_ ”

“What are you doing here?” Berto asks the girl.

“We’ll find that out once we get to Mamá Luisa,” Beatriz says as she steps in front of Coco, taking one of the girl’s hands. “Vamonos!”

Coco and her family weave through the graves, rounding a corner as Dante follows them. Her gaze falls upon Pepita, who is standing near a glowing marigold bridge. “There you are, Pepi—” she stops as the cat tilts her head to the side, her eyes following until her gaze falls upon the bridge arching before them all. “Wow…”

The family passes through an invisible barrier onto the bridge, their bodies changing from ghostly to solid. Coco hesitates crossing at first.

“It’s okay, Coco,” Beatriz reassures her great-granddaughter. “No harm will come to you.”

Coco follows after her family, the petals glowing under her feet with each step she takes. Pepita and Dante press against her sides.

As the family gets to the crest of the bridge, Coco looks at the sparkling cityscape. “I can’t believe this isn’t a dream,” she whispers.

“Did you honestly think there was no Land of the Dead?” Gloria asks her.

“No, I just didn’t think I’d actually be here with you all,” Coco replies.

Gloria nods slowly. “Ah, I see.”

The Riveras continued on towards an arrivals area of the far side of the bridge. Coco sees fantastical creatures crawling, flying, making nests in the nearby architectures – the fantastical beasts are almost everywhere.

“Are those alebrijes?” she asks quietly, pointing to one.

“Yes – _real_ alebrijes,” Berto answers. “Spirit guides.”

“They are very loyal to the souls they guide,” Elena adds.

“Just watch your step,” Franco warns. “Sometimes they leave… special droppings on the ground.”

* * *

“…if you are experiencing travel issues, agents at the Department of Family Reunions are available to assist you.”

Coco and her family get into the line for re-entry at the Marigold Grand Central Station, along with other skeletons returning from the land of the living.

“…and remember to return before sunrise. Enjoy your visit!”

“Next!” a departures agent calls out.

A man around the age of twenty-seven steps up to the monitor. There’s this hopeful look on his face, as though he’s waiting for a miracle to happen. “Please check your scanner,” he pleads. “Maybe my photo might be up this year?”

The clerk gives him a look of pity, doing as he asks her to. The monitor scans him, but an “X” appears, accompanied by a negative buzzing sound. “I’m sorry, señor,” she apologizes. “Your photo isn’t up there…”

The hopeful look on the man’s face disappears, replaced with a distraught one. “Oh…” he lets out a sigh, then waves a hand dismissively. “That’s fine – it’s the same as every year, really. No point in arguing over it – that's just how things are, and always will be.” He looks at the bridge for a moment, as though he’s reminiscing what could’ve been.

Coco can’t help but feel sorry for the man as she watches him walk away. What kind of family would leave off of the ofrenda like that?

Beatriz looks up in time to see the man’s back. “Poor guy,” she sympathizes. “I’d be miserable, too, if no one put up my photo.”

“Next!”

“Come, mija,” Beatriz says, grabbing Coco’s hand. “It’s our turn.”

The arrivals line moves forward. The family crowds around the gate.

The arrivals agent leans out from his window. “Welcome back, amigos! Anything to declare?”

“As a matter of fact,” Beatriz starts, pushing Coco to the front, “yes.”

Coco waves, grinning nervously. “Hola.”

The agent’s jaw unhinges and drops.

* * *

Coco and her family are escorted by a security guard into the Department of Family Reunions. Inside, they find case workers helping many travelers work out holiday snafus.

In the far corner, one traveler was very miffed.

“I don’t understand though,” a woman aged seventy-one says, completely puzzled by her predicament. “My family always puts my photo up every year.”

“I'm sorry, señora,” the case worker apologizes. “But it says here that no one put up your photo.”

The woman sneers at the case worker. “Ah, yes – because I should put all my trust into some ridiculous machine that my photo was taken down.” She stands up, putting her hands on her hips as she asks in a mockingly sweet yet sarcastic tone, “Tell me, señorita, when was the last time you ran a system scan? Because I’m starting to believe that your little computer has a few viruses.”

“Luisa?” Berto asks.

Luisa turns to her brother-in-law, and her face softens. “Mi familia!” She puts her hands over her chest. “They keep saying my photo isn’t on the ofrenda!” She then angrily points to the case worker. “Please, tell this woman and that _malfunctioning hunk of junk_ that my photo is still up.”

“We didn’t make it to the ofrenda,” Berto tells her.

“What?”

“We ran into someone…”

The family steps aside, revealing Coco.

Luisa’s eyes widen as they fall upon her great-great granddaughter. “ _Coco?_ ”

“Mamá Luisa,” the girl chuckles nervously.

Luisa raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Just then, a door opens and a clerk pokes his head out.

“You the Rivera family?”


	5. You mustn't let your moment pass you by...

“Well, you’re cursed,” the clerk announces.

The entire family gasps.

“But how?” Coco asks, both terrified and confused at the same time.

The clerk searches through a huge stack of papers. “Día de los Muertos is a night to _GIVE_ to the dead,” he answers. “You _STOLE_ from the dead.”

“But I didn’t steal the guitar!” Coco objects.

Luisa raises an eyebrow as she looks to her great-great granddaughter. “ _Guitar?_ ”

“It was my great-great grandfather’s,” Coco continues. “It’s my inheritance—”

“ _Coco,_ ” Luisa interrupts the girl. “You know very well that musician is no longer a part of this family.”

“He left his wife and son to indulge in crazy fantasies!” Gloria shrieks.

“He’s _dead_ to us!” Berto spits, disdain in his tone.

“But you’re _all_ dead.”

Dante balances his paws at the edge of the clerk’s desk and tries to reach a plate of food, while Pepita licks her paws.

“ _ACHOO!_ ” the clerk sneezes as he sniffs the air. “I’m sorry, but who do these alebrijes belong to?”

Coco steps up and tries to pull Dante away from the treats while Pepita sticks close to her feet. “They’re just Dante and Pepita.”

“That dog looks like one of those strays that bother you,” Elena says, her eyes narrowing at the xolo.

“And that cat looks like a regular domesticated one,” Franco adds, pointing to Pepita.

Carmen gestures to a bunch of alebrijes fluttering on the other side of the window. “They’re definitely _not_ alebrijes.”

“Whatever they are, I am— _ACHOO!_ ” the clerk sneezes again, then wipes the area where his nose once was. “Terribly allergic.”

“But Dante has no hair,” Coco points out.

“And I don’t have a nose, and yet here we are,” the clerk retorts.

“This still doesn’t explain why the scanner kept saying my photo wasn’t up,” Luisa says, throwing a hand up as she paces back and forth.

It then hits Coco. She reaches into her pocket and sheepishly pulls out the photo. “ _Woops_ …” She unfolds the photo.

“Why do you have my photo?” Luisa asks sternly, taking a few steps closer to her great-great granddaughter.

“I – I didn’t mean to take it off!” Coco insists, taking a few steps back. “The frame just fell and broke, so I held onto it!”

Luisa takes a deep breath in, then exhales. She turns to the clerk and asks in a calm down, “How do we send her back?”

“Well, since it’s a family matter…” The clerk flips through a few pages. “The way to undo a family curse is to get your family’s blessing.”

“Really?” the girl asks as her great-great grandmother shoots a look of uncertainty at her.

“Get your family’s blessing, and everything _SHOULD_ go back to normal,” the clerk tells her. “But it has to be by sunrise!”

“What happens if I don’t get it by sunrise?” Coco asks, raising a hand curiously.

Beatriz gasps as she sees one of the girl’s hands, with a finger already beginning to turn into bone. “Mija, _your hand!_ ”

Coco looks at her hand, her eyes widening as she sees the bony finger. She moves it a little and nearly screams, until her great-grandmother puts a hand over her mouth.

“Calm down,” Beatriz tries to soothe her as she pats her shoulder with her other hand. “We can’t have you freaking out now.”

“But not to worry! Your family’s here, so you can get your blessing right now.” The clerk searches the ground near Carmen. “Cempasúchil, cempasúchil… _aha!_ ” He stops and looks up at Carmen, gesturing to the petal stuck in the hem on her dress. “Perdón, señora.” He plucks the marigold petal from the hem of her dress and hands it to Luisa. “Now, you look at the living and say her name.”

Luisa turns to her great-great granddaughter. “Coco,” she says simply, her voice soft and firm.

“Nailed it. Now say: I give you my blessing.”

“I give you my blessing,” she repeats.

The marigold petal glows in her fingers, causing Coco to brighten.

“I give you my blessing to go home…” The glowing of the petal surges. “To put my photo back on the ofrenda…” Each added condition makes the petal glow brighter. Even though Luisa delivers it more like a scolding, Coco keeps on nodding, until her grandmother finishes with: “And to _never_ do any activities that involve music ever again!”

“ _What?!_ ” Coco shakes her head as the petal surges one last time. She looks at the clerk. “She can’t just add conditions like that!”

“Actually, she can since she’s family,” the clerk corrects her.

“Fine,” Coco sighs as she looks back at her grandmother.

“Then you hand the petal to Coco,” the clerk says to Luisa.

Luisa extends the petal to Coco, who reaches it. The girl grabs the petal, and she’s whisked back to the tomb in a whirlwind of petals.

Coco checks to make sure that she’s solid. “There’s no more ghosts!”

Her eyes soon drift to the guitar, and she quickly grabs it again. “Time to seize my moment!”

It takes about one step before her body slams against the clerk’s desk. She turns and sees that her family’s eyes are all on her.

Luisa marches over to her granddaughter, her eyes hard and narrowed. “I would’ve thought that your parents taught you well enough to keep your promises!”

“But it’s not fair!” Coco protests. “I deserve to live out my dream! It’s _my_ life and _my_ choice, not yours!” She grabs another petal, then marches over to Beatriz. “Mamá Beatriz, can I have your blessing instead?”

Beatriz puts her hands out and shakes them, backing away from the petal.

“Tía Elena?”

“ _Never!_ ” the forty-two year-old yells hysterically. “That man’s music was a curse!”

“Tío Franco?”

He puts his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “No.”

“Tía Carmen?”

She shakes her head.

“Tío Berto? Tía Gloria? He _is_ your brother, after all.”

“So what if he’s our brother?” Berto huffs, crossing his arms. “He wasted his time playing music rather than trying to support his wife and four year-old son.”

“He’s nothing but a _cobarde,_ ” Gloria hisses.

“Mija, it won’t be long now until sunrise,” Luisa says as she approaches the twelve year-old. “You need to go home _now._ ”

Coco stares at the woman in disbelief. “So you’re going to force me into giving up music just like you did?”

Luisa tries to reach out and place a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I just don’t want you to repeat his mistakes.”

The twelve year-old soon gets an idea. She digs into her pockets and pulls the photo out, gazing. “ _His mistakes_ …” She gazes at the man with no face. He’s family—therefore, _he_ can give her his blessing without any conditions.

Berto places a hand on her right shoulder. “You know how it goes—it’s always Mamá Luisa’s way.”

“She knows what’s best,” Gloria tells her.

“You’ll understand someday,” Beatriz says as she pats the girl’s back.

Coco moves away from her family, towards the door. “Excuse me, but it’s getting a little too hot in here for me and I need some fresh air,” she lies. “I’ll be back in five minutes!”

The family stares in shock as the girl bolts out of the room.

“Uh,” the clerk speaks up, “should someone tell her that this room has an air conditioner?”

* * *

Coco rushes down a staircase with Dante and Pepita. Once on the ground floor, they huddle beneath the staircase. She glances at the upper floor and sees that her relatives are there. Berto is asking a patrolwoman about a girl her height. The patrolwoman picks up her walkie-talkie.

Coco scopes the ground floor, spotting a revolving door exit. “Vamonos,” she whispers to the xolo and cat. She pulls her hair over her ears and heads out, looking down at the ground while Dante and Pepita pad after her. “If I want to be a singer and a dancer, then I need my great-great grandfather’s blessing. We have to find him.”

But before she can reach the exit, she’s stopped by a patrolman. “Hold it, muchacha,” he tells her. The girl looks up, and he frantically tries to grab for his walkie-talkie. “I’ve found her! I’ve found the living girl!”

A family passes between Coco and the officer, chatty with arms full of many offerings.

“Excuse me, excuse me, folks! _Excuse me_ —”

Just as the family clears, the officer finds that the living girl is nowhere to be seen.

* * *

In a nearby corridor, Coco, Dante and Pepita hide from the patrolman. Soon, though, Pepita wanders off to inspect a side room.

“Pepita, wait!” Coco whispers. She and Dante follow the cat into the department of corrections, where she overhears an exchange in a nearby cubicle. She peeks through the window and sees the man who was denied from crossing the bridge earlier, talking to an officer.

“Look, I’m sorry,” the officer says as he flips through a few pieces of paper. “But you know the rules: if your photo’s not on any ofrenda, then you can’t cross the bridge.”

“You don’t understand,” the man protests. “I have a son that I haven’t seen in _ninety-one years!_ I need to see him _tonight!_ Can’t you just do a guy a favor and bend the law, just this once?” He spies a poster of De la Cruz at the officer’s workstation. “You know, De la Cruz and I have known each other since 1903! I could get you a ticket to sit in the front row at his Sunrise Spectacular Show, if you get me across the bridge tonight—”

Coco perks up at the mention of De la Cruz. Could it be that this man is her ticket to getting her great-great grandfather’s blessing?

“Um—”

“I can try getting you his autograph! Maybe even an invite to his party!” the man goes on, grabbing the officer’s arm. “Just _please,_ you _have_ to let me cross that bridge!”

The corrections officer pulls away. “I’m sorry—I really am—but I can’t just bend the law. Besides, my shift is almost over and I gotta visit my living family.”

The man frowns. “Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll— I’ll manage.” He stands up and leaves the room.

Coco’s sympathy for the man only increases as she follows him into the hallway. “Señor?” she says, trying to approach him. “Are you really a childhood friend of De la Cruz?”

“Yes, but why do you want to—” the man stops and gasps as he turns, his eyes falling upon the girl. “ _Dios mío, chica!_ How did a living girl like you wind up here?”

“That’s not important right now,” Coco tries changing the subject. “The point is: I need to get back to the Land of the Living, and the only way to do that is if I get De la Cruz’s blessing.”

The man tilts his head in confusion. “Why do you need his blessing? Are you related to him?”

“Yeah, actually,” Coco answers. “He’s my great-great grandfather.”

“He’s your— _what?_ ” The man gapes at her for a few seconds, then puts a hand to his chin and looks down at the ground. “Wait a minute…” He begins to think things over, contemplating it all. It _does_ make some sense—Ernesto’s had many affairs in the past, so it’s possible that this child is the descendant of one of his illegitimate children. “ _Wait_ …” The girl is going back to the Land of the Living. If she takes his photo and puts it on an ofrenda when she gets back, then he can cross over and see his boy. “ _Yes!_ ” He looks back at her and places his hands on her shoulders. “I just had the most _wonderful_ idea! We can do a favor for one another—help each other out!”

Coco’s eyes twinkle with joy. “ _Really?_ Oh, thank you _so much,_ señor!”

“My name is Enrique,” he introduces himself, extending his hand. “What’s yours?”

“I’m Socorro, but most people just call me Coco,” she says as she takes his hand. Then suddenly, she spies her family hustling down a staircase. “How about we discuss our deal somewhere else?”

She grabs Enrique by the wrist and runs towards the exit, away from her family. She, Dante and Pepita burst out of the door and hurry down the stairs. The girl soon stops as she realizes that Enrique’s arm is no longer attached to his body. The arm points its thumb backwards to Enrique, who is ten paces behind.

“Despacio, mariquita!” Enrique yells as he runs over to her.

Coco throws the arm back to him, and the two disappear into a dense crowd.

A few moments later, the Riveras burst out of the revolving doors. Luisa looks around for Coco, only to find that she’s not there. “That girl’s going to be _eaten alive_ out there… I need my spirit guide.” She looks up at the night sky and yells out, “ _Paloma!_ ”

In three seconds, a giant colorful vulture lands in front of Luisa. She turns to the family. “Does anyone have the petal that Coco touched?”

Beatriz steps forward with a marigold petal, holding it out to Paloma. “I still don’t understand why you named her _dove_ of all things,” she whispers to her mother-in-law.

“ _Silencio_ _,_ ” Luisa says in a low voice, making the other woman shut up almost instantly.

Paloma sniffs the petal, then looks at her mistress.

Luisa pat her alebrije’s beak. “Find our Coquita,” she whispers, looking into the vulture’s beady black eyes.

Paloma nods her head, then sniffs around. Her head darts as she soon narrows in on the scent, before she lets out a loud screech and takes to the air.


End file.
